The
Strongest Men - Preemie Fathers

The strongest men in the world aren’t made of muscle alone. Rather,
they are fathers who stay the course when something goes awry with the
children of their dreams.

They are the men who:

"hold up the wall" in the NICU when their babies are fighting
to live.

cook grits and go to the bathroom with toddlers trailing when Mama
is away.

provide insight only a father could give at IEPs.

exchange Little League baseball for a simple game of catch with
a Velcro mitt.

discipline their child despite the disability.

find time to rock, read to and wrestle with all their children.

pick a wildflower for their wife when stress levels are still climbing.

sometimes cry despite a desire to remain stoic.

make mistakes and keep on trying.

accept and enjoy their child no matter the outcome.

I have had two such men in my life — my father and my husband. There
are many more fathers who share their courage and commitment. To all
of them, I offer tribute. In memory of my father and in dedication to
my husband, I write this essay.

My twin brother was born with hydrocephalus. Back in the 1950s, there
was little outside help, but our father used his ingenuity to strengthen
Larry’s neck and legs so he was eventually able to walk. He and a welder
customized a walker and fashioned a harness to hold Larry’s large head.
When he was began running and flipping the walker, Larry had to return
to a wheelchair. But, he didn’t like sitting in a chair and soon was
walking.

As Larry grew, he developed seizures. His learning problems became
more pronounced, and he often had headaches and dizziness. At times,
his behavior could be extremely trying. Daddy was not naturally a patient
person. So confident and sure in almost every situation, our father
faced the challenge of his life in raising his younger son. Yes, he
made many mistakes, but he did so many things right! He insisted that
Larry needed some independence, so he bought him a three-wheel bike.
Soon Larry was able to ride by himself around town. They went fishing
together and out to eat. They played checkers and raised puppies and
watermelons. Larry was given chores around the house that he handled
well when he felt well.

My own husband has also demonstrated great coping skills. We had three
children born within 20 months. Our twins arrived three months premature.
When Clint and Jacob were born, their daddy kept a vigil in the NICU.
He stroked their frail bodies, talked to them and prayed. While Jacob
recovered, Clint experienced many setbacks. At age nine, Jacob is doing
well, but Clint is severely visually impaired, has neurological disabilities
and a shunt for hydrocephalus.

In their early years, both twins experienced frequent illness, and
Clint had several surgeries. Their father handled nightly stacks of
insurance papers and bills. He took over many domestic chores such as
cooking breakfast so I could feed babies. He fed Clint and Jacob their
late-night bottles, while I went to bed early with our 2-year-old. I
took over the 2 a.m.feedings. After his full-time job, he came home
but to more work with very little time for play. Now, we look back on
those first couple of years and wonder how we managed. We often joke
that we didn’t even use our furniture back then — other than the rocking
chair!

Doug also designed devices to aid Clint’s therapy. When early intervention
teachers told us Clint needed something to correct his neck extension,
he made a foam rubber collar that supported Clint’s head, neck and back.
The collar fastened under his chin with Velcro, and Clint wore it except
when eating or sleeping. The collar worked.

Now Clint is older, and he and his daddy enjoy a good relationship.
They go to his brothers’ baseball games . They occasionally go to the
pasture where Clint likes the bumpy ride and listening to the cattle.
When Doug arrives home from work, Clint (who is primarily nonverbal)
will often surprise us and say, "Daddy," or "Da Doug."
They snuggle on the floor where Clint gets a laugh out of pulling the
pillow out from under his daddy’s head. One morning when the alarm clock
rang, we heard Clint plainly say, "Daddy up." Only then did
we realize that Clint knows his father gets up when the alarm sounds.

We never thought we’d reach this point — complete acceptance — where
we thrill with Clint’s small gains without focusing so intently on whether
he’ll walk or talk. Few things in life affect a father so deeply as a
child with disabilities. So, to the fathers who have "held up the
wall" and stirred the grits, I say, "Hats off and Happy Father’s
Day!"

Janet Gresham is a former news editor
and reporter. She now works at home near Selma, Alabama and is editor of
Selma Showcase magazine. She also edits ParentShare, a local newsletter
that is a service for families of children with disabilities.